


Act of Faith

by silkmoth



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Schmoop, future!fic, king!arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:32:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkmoth/pseuds/silkmoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At night, Merlin reflects on his relationship with Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Act of Faith

**Act of Faith**

  
Merlin was dreaming. Green grass under his naked feet, a blue sky with a gentle sun above him, warming his skin. He was standing on a hill, looking down on an empty beach, where slow waves were hitting the sand. Feeling free, he started to run down to the sea, almost flying with joy. When his bare feet touched first the warm sand and then the cool water, he smiled. What a truly perfect day. The only thing missing was…

“Merlin?”

Ack. The King. Merlin decided he wasn’t really missing the man; Arthur would never be able to enjoy simply strolling around the beach and the waves.

“Merlin?”

“Mhm. Go away.”

“Merlin!”

Steadfastly ignoring the voice, Merlin crossed his arms and stomped further through the sand clinging to his feet. All of a sudden, it became a little chilly. No. Not chilly, ice cold. What…?

“MERLIN!”

“WHAT?”

Being awaken rudely, Merlin stared at his lover full of dislike. He could barely make out his features in the firelight; dawn wasn’t anywhere near yet, apparently.

“You’re hogging the covers. Again!” Arthur griped, pulling on the bedspread.

“I am so not,” Merlin answered haughty.

“Really? And how did that happen?” Arthur asked, lifting the spread and slipping under it, pressing his naked body against Merlin. The warlock gasped; his lover’s body was cold as ice all over. Merlin threw a last, longing glance at his dreamy beach, then he gave up. He drew the king into a tight embrace and asked, “How did you get so cold?”

Arthur huffed against his neck. “It’s winter, Merlin. I woke up without a blanket, that’s why I’m cold. If I come down with something, it’s entirely your fault.”

Merlin sighed, raised his hand and magicked a few more blankets from the big chest in front of the window. When the furs and covers had folded themselves neatly over them, Merlin ruffled the blond hair on his shoulder. “If you come down with something, I’ll heal you right away. So what?”

Arthur, who had made himself quite comfortable almost on top of the warlock, murmured something into his neck.

“I’m sorry?”

“Mhm. You’re good at healing me… always were…”

Merlin smiled and began to nose softly through Arthur’s hair. As always, he wondered how the king managed to smell this good. He knew for certain that Arthur hadn’t bathed last night and still he smelled like heaven to Merlin. Well. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be awake? His right hand started to wander down the long line of the other man’s back.

“I’m good at healing you because you’re dreadful when you’re sick. I had to live through one cold, and that was enough for a lifetime, believe me.” Merlin’s hand had arrived at its destiny and it squeezed one buttock gently. No reaction.

“Arthur?”

Great. He had a drooling, slightly snoring, sleeping man lying on top of him, while Merlin himself and a certain part of his body were now wide awake. For a moment he considered waking Arthur, then he pulled back a bit and looked at the other man. The light from the fireplace played softly over Arthur’s face, making his perfect features look almost angelic, but it still couldn’t hide the dark circles under the blond lashes. No, waking him was out of question.

Merlin knew that the last year, since Arthur had become King, had taken its toll on the man. Hell, it had taken its toll on all of them. Still far too young, Arthur had inherited the crown and all the responsibilities that came with it, and he had never let on how much it had cost him. Only when they were alone Arthur did let the royal mask, so firm in place, drop and become the prattish, loving and sometimes burdened man again; the man Merlin had come to know so well and love so much over the last four years.

Thinking back, Merlin smiled and shook his head. So many misunderstandings, so much distrust, so many lies. And then so much love, fear and jealousy. All washed away in two nights by the amazing man in his arms.

The first night happened when he had told Arthur the truth about his magic. Still the Crown Prince then, Arthur had taken the news far better than Merlin had ever hoped. Yes, there had been yelling and fighting, and for a few weeks distrust. But Arthur had never really left his side, had stood by him and protected him from the thunderstorm of accusations that had brought on his revelation to Arthur in the first place.

The second night… Merlin closed his eyes in dismay, as he always did when he thought about this night. Arthur’s wedding night. He huffed quietly. Then, Merlin had thought he could handle it; he had known for a long time that Arthur would marry Gwen. A week before the wedding, he had realized he couldn’t take it after all. So he had started to argue with Arthur about it. The only thing Arthur had asked, quite calmly, had been _Why not?_ Merlin had told him. Lancelot. Always Lancelot. Arthur had answered, _I don’t care_ _._ And Merlin had argued on, yelling and hissing at the king. What he hadn’t noticed was that Arthur never had said, _I love her._ Not even once.

And only a few hours after the wedding, it had all boiled down to a situation to which Arthur still referred as a _truly epic hissy fit of amazing proportions_ _._ It had surely put the fear of the Gods in all the good people of Camelot, a fear that could still be seen in the faces of those who didn’t know the Royal Warlock well. Driven by the most intense feeling of jealousy, Merlin had been ready to throw everything away, his destiny, his love and need for Arthur, hell, even his own life. Without really noticing he had called down a _real_ thunderstorm upon Camelot, a thunderstorm no one in whole Albion had seen before, Merlin had stormed into the King’s chambers, ready to tear the couple apart, and damn the consequences. What he hadn’t expected was a swearing, half-naked Gwen and in front of her, an equally half-dressed Lancelot. The First Knight, obviously anticipating to be ripped apart by Arthur’s loyal warlock, had drawn his sword but hadn’t moved at all, scared to death. The Great Warlock hadn’t known what to say and so the bizarre tableau had been frozen for a few moments until the Queen had grabbed a jug from her nightstand and thrown it at the sorcerer’s head. Barely able to duck from the flying pottery, Merlin had turned around and left the royal chambers with surprising speed. Then he had searched for Arthur for about an hour until finally his mind had caught on with what was happening.

When Merlin had entered his own chambers, Arthur had been standing at an open window, watching the abating storm. The king had looked over his shoulder at his warlock and said, “Took you long enough.” And that had been that; they had never looked back.

Merlin sighed happily and tried to make himself more comfortable under Arthur; the king still was heavy as a horse. Arthur muttered in his sleep and his right arm that was flung over Merlin’s waist tightened for a moment; then he made a weird snorfling sound and settled down again. Merlin laid his cheek on the soft blond hair and closed his eyes. While he was drifting to sleep, he once again marvelled for a moment at how his life had turned out and how lucky he had been…

Merlin was dreaming. And this time blue eyes and that amazing smile, always only for him, were waiting in the dream.

The End.

  
~ To sleep is an act of faith ~

B. Harrison


End file.
